


Aftermath

by Insane_but_smart



Series: Aestheticverse [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anime, Injury, Isolation, Panic Attacks, Sequel, Thinking, wheelchair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26147584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insane_but_smart/pseuds/Insane_but_smart
Summary: Their actions have consequences.
Series: Aestheticverse [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679476
Comments: 13
Kudos: 6





	1. Change

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Unintentional](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24426742) by [Insane_but_smart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insane_but_smart/pseuds/Insane_but_smart). 



> Whoopsie daisy, accidentally... made a sequel... to Unintentional... my hand slipped! It wasn't me, I swear!

Flare was not alright.

He ran a hand over the remnant cracks around his eyesocket, shivering at the strange sensation of fleeting… pain? as he stared into the mirror in front of him. He was desensitized from it by now, really- he wouldn’t have known the feeling if he had genuinely tried.

At some point during his… corruption, he had ended up changing outfits, and he (he hated to admit it) actually liked this one more than his regular outfit. So... he kept it.

He fingered his necklace, the charm clinking against the chain, which was lacking in a single charm (it felt odd, after so long- to have his all alone again) and tucked the little golden sun back behind his shirt, where he couldn’t see it at all. And where nobody else could, either.

He was in the Doodlesphere. Ink had decided to let him in.

He hated it.

Not the Doodlesphere- the place was actually alright.

He messed up. He understood that. But how could he have been so… so… so _stupid?_ H- he- His hand went back up to trace the edge of his cracked eyesocket absentmindedly, tears forming (or were they always there?) and threatening to spill over. He was so _dumb._ He- he had _hurt_ people, he had- He had done so many things.

He… had to pay for them.

Rigel was, to say the least, rather pleased with this turn of events. Or, well, un-turn. Having his powers back was satisfying. And the risk of accidentally poisoning himself was at an all-time low, though that was probably because he could not _be_ poisoned. Ray was still stuck recovering, and he was very twitchy, but he totally didn’t care about that fact at _all_. Because. He didn’t.

But that wasn’t relevant.

Meanwhile, Rigel had been thinking.

He was…

Ugh.

He _hated_ being in _that_ body, it was the most devaluing thing he had ever experienced and he _despised_ every single moment of it. The feeling of _weakness,_ of _helplessness-_ it filled him with unadulterated loathing.

...but he supposed the hugs were nice. Not that he needed them! He! Just! Thought! They were! Okay! That didn’t mean anything at all! He would _not_ ever admit that he maybe-wanted another! That- that was- that was weak! He wasn’t- he wasn’t- he _wasn’t_ weak.

That was it. He wasn’t. He was completely fine. Nothing was wrong. He didn’t need affection, he was one of the terrors of the multiverse- he didn’t even _deserve_ it!

Nevermind the fact that that last thought… stung. He ignored it, just like he always had.

Ray felt sick to his- no, wait, they _both_ felt sick to their stomach. They flexed their hand, sighing at the sensation of being… one. One being. One body. _Their_ body. They sunk deeper into the bed, poking at the scar that ran right across their ribs experimentally, before hissing as their phalange instinctively curled away. They were rather blurry right now, as it seemed, but that didn’t matter. They were fine. They poked it again as the white-hot feeling of pain shot through them, hissing once more before they sat up, rubbing their skull. Ugh. They felt horrible. Their head pounded and they groaned, phalanges gripping the edges of the bone. They were- their eyelights flickered in and out of existence for a moment as said eyelights snapped towards the door. They tried to stand up.

Their legs wobbled with uncertainty and for a second they were sure they were going to fall. They held onto the side of their bed as they stood there, hardly daring to breathe.

One.

Two.

Three…!

Four..!

Five!

Si-

They collapsed back onto the bed, ending in a position so that they lay horizontally, their head and legs dangling off of the edges.

 _It was a new record,_ one of them thought.

They scowled, annoyed, before curling up and into themselves slightly- they shook with repressed tears and anger.

They… they felt so…

...so _alone._

Lilac was not the best, currently.

He’d just… been at home alone for the past week. Or two. Three? He hadn’t realized how much he depended on Ray and Flare and Ink for company. He didn’t really have many friends. He was stupendously bored, and so he had taken to reading fanfiction 24/7. It didn’t even matter what he was reading- cringey fanservice, crackships, crack _fics,_ all the things! Whatever trope it was, he read them. They were all, in his opinion, very good.

So it was a surprise when he heard a knock on the door.

He opened it a crack, hesitantly. His eyelights met nervous purple-green ones, and he slammed it shut with an audible squeak of protest from the hinges as they were so violently abused. No. He was not going through that again.

“Lilac-” the muffled yell came through the door. “-sorry, I just-”

Lilac opened the door again, staring up into Flare’s shaky and now mismatched eyelights. “What? What do you _want?”_ He snapped, before realizing that was pretty rude.

Then again, nearly murdering someone was also pretty rude, so he guessed that they were even.

Flare flinched, his expression hurt, and Lilac realized something was different. “I- I’m sorry, okay?”

“...sorry?” He repeated incredulously. “That doesn’t- Flare, that- ‘sorry’ doesn’t mend relationships.”

Flare looked away from him, fidgety, pulling on the fingers of one of his gloves. “I-” He sighed. “I- I know,” he muttered. He knew that too well.

“Do you?”

“I do,” Flare replied, meeting his eyelights steadily, voice shaky. “I just wanted to let you know… I guess I’ll leave now. Bye.” And he turned and made a move to open a portal.

“Flare, wait-” Lilac yelped, the introverted Sans craving someone to talk to for the first time in weeks, someone to save him from his self-imposed quarantine that he was in.

He turned back around. “...yeah?”

Lilac hesitated before finally asking, “Do you… want to watch anime? Maybe?”

Flare paused, thinking. He… he’d like that. But he didn’t… he’d already… he’d already hurt him…! He didn’t want to do that again, he couldn’t- couldn’t do that, he couldn’t let himself, it wasn’t- he was so- he gave up.

“Can we watch Madoka Magica?”

They didn’t talk. At all. Even though both of them wanted (and needed) to.

They just binged the anime, episode by episode.

It was okay, Lilac guessed. Not the best. But okay. Flare looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. So Lilac didn’t ask.

Flare’s hands trembled as they clenched and unclenched. He- he wanted to explain it to Lilac, but the more he thought about it the more crazy it sounded, and that was just- he just- he didn’t- he didn’t want to stay like _this_ forever, he didn’t want to be messed up forever with no possible way to turn ba-

Deep breaths.

H- he needed- deep- deep breaths, one in, one out, one in, out, in, out, inoutinoutinoutinoutinouti- i- i- i- in- n, out- t- t, i- in, out, in, out, in. Out. In… out… in… out…

He fell into a sort of methodical rhythm, breathing like that. Even though he didn’t have to. It was calming..

He was trying not to blank out (Lilac had called it ‘really really really really bad dissociating’, but he had always referred to it as ‘blanking’ because it was just… so much shorter. Simpler. He liked simple. Simple was hard to mess up. And anyways- that was what he had always called it.) again. Even though it was better than having a panic attack… but that was… that- that was _bad_. He thought he was recognizing that now. Which was- that was- that was good.

Very good, according to Lilac.

Finally, sometime halfway through Episode 5, he sighed, and Lilac looked at him expectantly. “Lilac,” he started, and the smaller skeleton nodded- he was listening. Flare continued, realizing Lilac expected him to. “I… I wasn’t… I- I w- wasn’t _me_ when I d- did _that,_ I- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I- I was messed up somehow, something happened to me, and I just-”

Lilac raised his hands in a placating motion. “Calm. Down. Start over. From the beginning.”

Flare took another breath.

And then he started to explain, trying not to break into sobs the whole while.

“I- Lilac- I c- I nearly _killed_ you and R- Ray,” Flare whispered, stumbling over his words, mortified. Lilac nodded solemnly in agreement. “Yeah.”

There was a pause as Flare hung his head, eyesockets once more filled with tears. “I- I’m-”

And then suddenly he was crying and Lilac was hugging him and he was holding on to him, clinging to him like a lifeline. “I’m sorry,” he whispered between sobs. “I- I’m so, s- so, so- rry.”

Rigel was restless, which was- it made sense. He was just… ugh. So. Much. Pent. Up. Energy! He was- ugh. Maybe he could destroy a universe? Perhaps? Or at least tarnish it. In some way... 

He was… not wholly certain he could actually _accomplish_ that task (let alone _completely_ turn an AU) in the limited time he would most definitely have before someone showed up. He was certain everyone in every AU would be on high alert. Although, he was most certainly hoping that Flare would have a stunted amount of allies due to the whole… situation going on.

Corrupting an AU? That wasn’t something easily forgiven by most, and he knew more than anyone people were never forgiving.

He tried to summon his rapier once more, vines twining around his sword arm as it appeared, the sword’s visage flickering as it was summoned for the briefest of moments, and then it fizzled out again, sparks of dark blue magic zooming in all directions as the vines vanished too. For the fiftieth time. He groaned, rubbing his temples. Why couldn’t he do this one simple thing right? He’d always been able to before… and it wasn’t like the actual _structure_ of his magic had changed at all. That was, quite literally and quite simply put, impossible. 

It simply couldn’t happen. It would require so much conscious effort that he would’ve noticed a change like that.

R- Right?

There- there was no way… but then again, it- it felt so incredibly weird. Not… wrong, more like a part of himself he hadn’t known existed- that may not have existed prior to… _this mess._

But it had felt that way before too! The first time, it had been considerably more jarring. So this was completely normal! It was supposed to feel weird- eldritch and foreign… for just a few hours.

It had been nearly a _week._

But- but there was _nothing_ wrong! He was sure of it! Why would there be? He was fine. He always had been. He thrust his hands into his p-

They met cool silver- he took in a breath. He had forgotten about…

He took it out- the little charm in the shape of the moon, running his phalanges over it. He still couldn’t- still _didn’t_ believe Flare had kept it, but… there it was.

Right… here.

In his hand.

He flinched. What was he doing?! No! This was- this was wrong. This wasn’t what- ugh. He dropped the damn thing back into his pockets, groaning. He couldn’t- he couldn’t go _back_.

...it hurt too much to think about, he didn’t-

He went back to trying to summon his rapier.

Lilac hummed. “Flare,” he muttered, finally addressing the one thing that had been bothering him, “If you’re back to… _normal,_ why are your eyelights still…?” He trailed off.

Flare blinked before frowning. His eyelights still refused to return to their normal off-white colour, instead staying a dull purple and green rather insistently. It annoyed Flare to no end. He wanted to go back to normal! He- he wanted to act like this never happened, he just… wanted to pretend he hadn’t messed up. He wanted to pretend that he hadn’t done anything wrong, that he could still be- that he _was_ redeemable.

“I don’t know, Lilac,” he mumbled back. “I really don’t know.”


	2. Freedom and Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's stuck.  
> They're learning. One of them figures it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER WAS BETA-READ! By Lyn (aka smshlyn), if you were wondering. I love him and he's great. So shoutout to them.
> 
> Hopefully you like the fic~

Ray was- trying, both of them were, but he- they- he was unstable, he didn’t- w- we? They? He?? He didn’t know, he didn’t- it was- it was the biggest headache of his life. But he was in front now. Alone.

...alone. So… incredibly alone.

It was tiring.

The loneliness was painful.

It ached.

Hell, he- he barely talked to  _ anyone, _ he hardly even- he wanted a wheelchair desperately- o- or crutches, or some way to move around, but instead he was just… stuck. Stuck in bed. He wasn’t… he couldn’t…! He couldn’t do anything, he just wanted- He wanted to be let  _ out. _

He just wanted out.

Was that too much to ask for? Was that just… too much…?

Did he not-

He blinked back tears as his chest rose and fell, every single breath agonizing pain.

It hurt.

So much.

Flare was trying with his magic, but it was so  _ difficult- _ his hands sparked with magic again, needing an outlet but finding a sudden lack in them. He frowned. He’d felt something that time… he tried again, and managed to summon his sw- his sword! He grinned, feeling its familiar weight for the few seconds it appeared, but then pouting the moment it vanished. He was so close… 

He glanced over at Lilac, who was reading fanfiction rather insistently in an attempt to ignore Flare’s pitiful attempts at summoning a weapon. “You’re doing great,” the guardian mumbled to himself, looking back down at his hands and flexing them slowly and methodically. “You- you’ve got this. You can do this. This- t- this is fine.”

He took a deep breath.

He pulled on the strands of his magic connecting him to-

A solid, familiar weight fell into his hands, and he shivered, suddenly feeling  _ something _ shoot through him, but that was overshadowed by the elation of- of victory! He’d done it! Yes!

Rigel shuddered. There was… that was… that had been strange. He’d felt a little tug- a little pull on his magic.

He… supposed it didn’t matter.

It was just different.

He had to- to calm down, had to concentrate, to focus- closing his eyes, he held out a hand, concentrating on the way he expected the sword to feel in his hands. He felt familiar vines crawl up his arms and smothered the tiny spark of excitement within him. He had to  _ focus. _

After a minute of standing like this, he opened his eyes once more, eyelights landing on the half-summoned rapier. He sighed. Progress.

No matter how little, it was… progress.

Ray pushed himself up, hearing footsteps before the door was pushed open. “Hey Killer,” he mumbled, his vocal magic cracky, staticky with disuse, and the drippy-eyed skeleton grinned at him. “Heya, goldenrod.”

“Don’t call me that,” he groaned, partly from a headache and partly because the nickname was annoying.

“Aww, but why not?”

Ray just stared at him, deadpan. “You know why.”

Killer’s grin stretched wider. “Oh, but do I?”

“Stoooooop. Please. You’re a meanie.”

“Pfft- are we resorting to those kinds of insults now?”

“Yeah.”

“Hehe- anyways, I just wanted to let ‘ya know that we’re goin’ on another raid. You want anything?”

Ray stared at him before humming in thought. “...can I get a wheelchair?”

Flare had noticed something. Something off. He… he was- he had a disconnect from his magic, he didn’t- he couldn’t- It was harder to do things. It felt so much… darker than normal. He- it- it was scary. He was  _ scared. _ It was so different, he didn’t…

How could he fix things if he couldn’t even fix himself?

Rigel was ticked off considerably. He couldn’t attack, couldn’t defend, he was just- just useless! He hated it! He- he hated everything, he hated this stupid- this stupid-  _ ugh! _ His magic felt so- so wrong, so  _ positive- _ it was disgusting and he hated all of it.

He was…

...what was he going to do now?

He groaned.

Was he really going to have to deal with  _ this  _ bullshit? He didn’t want to.

Ray pushed himself into the wheelchair, a burst of pain going through his chest from the strain, but overshadowed by the pure, unadulterated  _ excitement. _ He was leaving this room for the first time in months!

_ “Finally,”  _ Chara muttered, and he rolled his eyelights. 

_ “Oh, shut up,”  _ he shot back, though he was too hyped to really be mad at him.  _ “Let me enjoy this moment.” _

Ray blinked, tapping the armrests absentmindedly as Killer leaned against the wall. Ray grinned up at him. “This is  _ amazing, _ ” he gushed, and Killer smirked.

“No problem.”

Ray attempted to push himself by turning the wheels, but it was too much strain (he could have done it normally, too… ugh.) It was just so… humiliating. He sent a pleading look in Killer’s direction.

“Whaddya want, sunny boy?”

“...can you help? Please?”

Killer grinned. “Why not.”

Ray instantly brightened up as Killer began to push him through the hallways, the ride bumpy (cobblestone was  _ not _ the best thing to drive on, they soon learned) but fun nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Rigel blinked. Positivity? In  _ his  _ evil castle/lair/hideout (Listen, he was still working on the name- names were very very hard to come up with, he’d found)?! That was- He groaned. What were those idiots up to now!?

He tried to teleport, but- it- it  _ still _ didn’t work, and he just- he groaned again. He was going to have to walk. He hated walking.

Ray hated being stuck- he wanted to walk, dammit! But the wheelchair was good. So that was fine, he guessed. He was in the hallway, because Killer had left at some point. He was fine like this, though- he reached up and ran his hand along the wall. It didn’t get far before it was interrupted by vines, so he just skirted over them. They shivered slightly, and one even dared to curl around his hand. He smiled. These things really had a mind of their own, didn’t they…? He pulled on it gently so that it slipped off, before running his hand along the wall again with a small giggle. He was outside!

Rigel walked down the hallway and paused when he realized what was going on. Ray had a wheelchair now? But wasn’t he… someone must have pushed him out here, then.

Ray blinked as he noticed him, before grinning and waving. “Rigel! Look! I’ve got a wheelchair! I’m not stuck in there anymore!”

Rigel groaned. “Oh my stars, you’re as obnoxious as before. I’m starting to remember why I never actually visited your room…”

“Don’t be like that, I can’t even pin you to walls anymore~ You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Ray’s smirk was blatant proof of the fact that Rigel should worry. And worry he did. “...anyways, as much as I’d love to flirt with you right now… could you maybe push me around…?”

Rigel sighed, before nodding and grabbing the handles of the wheelchair. He supposed Ray should be allowed to get around somehow… not that he  _ cared _ or anything, he just- ugh! Whatever! “Where to?” he muttered, clearly not happy with this turn of events.

“The kitchen!” Ray exclaimed with a mischievous glint in his eyes and only the smallest hint of a smirk. He hadn’t raided the place in far too long.

...well, that, and the fact that he was craving chocolate right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "owo? what's this?" you ask. "Killer?"  
> "Yes," I reply, nodding slowly. "It is he." I lean forwards, staring you in the eyes. "Now get out of my notes," I whisper, and you blanch before leaving slowly and quietly. I watch you with a blank expression as you do so.
> 
> ;)  
> hopefully you liked :0  
> this chapter took longer than normal and i'm sorry about that qnq


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